


The Ghost of Christmas Past

by LizEBoredom



Series: Christmas Ghost Stories 2018 [1]
Category: Desire & Decorum (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Gen, Inspired by A Christmas Carol, Tragedy, ghost story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-10-10 02:35:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17417399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizEBoredom/pseuds/LizEBoredom
Summary: There is an old tradition of telling ghost stories at Christmas time. The most well-known of these has become Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. In that spirit, I present this series of Choices characters telling ghost stories at Christmas.





	The Ghost of Christmas Past

“…and  _that_ was the last time she was eve _r… seen… again.”_

Briar squealed, covering her eyes with one hand while clutching at the sleeve of Mr. Marlcaster’s coat with the other. Mr. Sinclaire was holding his cup of tea rather tightly, looking extremely pale. Aside from Minah, it appeared only Mr. Harper was unaffected by the story. Miss Parsons looked very pleased with herself, cocking an eyebrow and asking whether anyone felt they could top her story.

The group was gathered around the fire in the parlor. It was Christmas Eve, and they were engaged in the annual tradition of sharing ghost stories. Some of their group had better constitutions for the task than others.

“What say you, Mr. Marlcaster? No?” she said, as the poor man simply shook his head, his lips still drawn tight and a slight sheen on his brow. “Hm. And what of you, Miss Bennet?”

Minah couldn’t help but return her impish grin. She’d grown quite fond of Annabelle, regarding her as a sister, and that meant a natural competitive air between the two women. She knew she couldn’t let Annabelle have the best story of the night, so she called upon some of the stories her mama used to tell when the cool of the Fall air began to set a frost on the ground, when the Earth itself began to die.

“There is a time of year when the dead may walk freely among the living, when the gates separating our worlds are opened. It was during one such time that this story takes place.

“When my mother was still in her youth, there was a story of a man in her village whose pride and prejudice was his undoing.”

She took a brief pause to look around the room, taking note that everyone in the room was paying rapt attention to her story thus far. The story used to frighten her as a young girl, but as she grew she understood it as a morality story, much like the fables of Aesop.

“During the time when the gates between the living and the dead are open, it was customary in my mother’s village to burn offerings for the dead who walked among them. There was a young man, the son of a wealthy landowner, who was known for being cruel to those he saw as beneath him. He believed himself to be descended from the gods themselves, as had his father before him.

“One day, upon walking through the streets on his way home from collecting the rents from his tenants, he walked through an offering. It had been left out by a family grieving their daughter, who had been found murdered along the same road.”

Minah paused again, glancing around at her audience. Mr. Marlcaster looked positively peaked, and Briar had her face buried in his shoulder. Miss Parsons was absolutely absorbed in the story, hanging on her every word.

Mr. Sinclaire appeared ready to run from the room at the slightest provocation, while Mr. Harper was looking at her with a twinkle in his eye and a grin on his lips.  _Her Luke_. She knew he enjoyed a good story as much as she did, and that he could well match her with his own storytelling. She grinned back at him before continuing on with her tale.

“Her killer had never been found, and it was feared she would become a vengeful spirit as a result. The man walking through her family’s offering was considered the highest form of disrespect to this young girl.

“That night, it is said a beautiful woman arrived at the young man’s home. His servants would speak little of what transpired next, but it is said the woman’s countenance changed once she was inside with him. She was no longer a beautiful woman, but now a young girl.

“The story says the man appeared fearful when he saw the face of the young girl and attempted to force her to leave. Upon doing so, the young girl reached directly into the man’s chest, tearing out his heart.

“When the servants rushed to his side to assist him, the young girl disappeared, as though she’d never been there at all. All that remained as evidence that she’d ever been there were a set of bloody footprints. She was never seen in the village again.”

A gasp issued from Briar’s lips, and Mr. Sinclaire excused himself, claiming a long ride back to Ledford as his reason for taking an early leave. Soon after, Miss Parsons followed, congratulating Minah on telling such a compelling story.

“Well, sister, I’m afraid I shall have to walk Miss Daly back to her quarters as she now feels unsafe. It seems she fears visitation from a certain phantom child now,” chided Mr Marlcaster.

“Well then, brother dear, I suppose it’s a good thing she has such a noble gentleman around to protect her.”

He turned quite red, but appeared pleased nonetheless. Offering Briar his arm, he escorted her out of the room, leaving Minah alone with Luke. She approached him, a smile on her face that she couldn’t remove.

“That was quite the story, my love,” he said with a glow of warmth in his voice as he approached her.

She stood looking up at him, her heart aching with the love she felt both for and from him.

“Luke,” she said, her hand itching to reach out for him, “I’ve missed you these past months, my love.”

“And I you. Know that even when I am away, I am always with you.”

“I know,” she nodded. “And you are always here in my heart.”

“Minah…my Minah. My time grows short here. I must return soon, my darling.”

“I wish …”

“I know. I do, too.”

Her heart grew heavy, knowing it would be another year before she could see him again. She began to blink rapidly to keep the tears from collecting in her eyes.

“I shall miss you every day we remain apart. I shall never forgive the Duke for taking you from me, Luke. Never!”

“I know, my darling.”

Unable to restrain herself any longer, she moved to reach for him, her hand passing through him. He smiled at her sadly.

“I’m sorry, Minah. It’s time.”

“No, please! Just a short time more,” she implored.

“I’m sorry. Goodbye, my love.”

He was gone before she could respond. She found herself sinking into the nearest chair, tears rolling down her cheeks unbidden. She startled at the sound of the door opening again, her brother entering the room to check on her.

“I was happy to see you enjoying yourself tonight, dear sister, but I feared what might happen once everyone left. Are you quite well?”

“I will be. Thank you, brother,” she said, offering a watery smile. “I was happy to see …  _everyone_  tonight.”

He grasped her shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “Fair news, sister. Fair news, indeed. I bid you goodnight, and take my leave.”

“Goodnight, Edmund.”

She took a few minutes to stare into the fire before extinguishing it. She picked up her candle, taking one last look around the parlor before heading to her room, whispering, “Goodnight, Luke, and Merry Christmas.”


End file.
